Page 3 of Marked

“Where are we?” He tries to get up, but with his hands bound to his feet, it’s not so easy.

I tilt my head. “Think, asshole. I told you we’re retracing your steps. We’re about ten minutes from your secret playground.” I take another sip. Shit, this coffee is good. I might need to make a second trip for another cup.

“I don’t know. I don’t hang out in town.” He brushes his cheek against his shoulder, wiping away some of the blood and sweat, smearing more dirt onto his shirt.

“Didn’t think so.” I sigh. “Shame.”

“Please! Just fucking let me go. Let me up. If you need information, I can get it for you, but you gotta let me out of this.” He tugs on his binds.

I close the trunk a little more.

The desperation is just pathetic at this point. He’s begged so much in the last day, I’m a little bored with it.

I don’t take on any job unless I know, without a doubt, the fucker has it coming.

And this fucker has everything coming to him.

“Jessica was in your trunk for how long?” I tilt my head a little. “The report was vague.”

He pales.

“Please.” His eyes narrow. I think he’s trying not to cry. Doesn’t matter. As soon as we get started with his actual punishment, he’ll be sobbing like the pussy he is.

“Tell me.” I lift a shoulder. “Let’s see if you’re starting to learn how to be trustworthy.”

He sniffs. “Five hours, I think.”

I check my watch. A gift from the last commander I served under in the Marines. It’s one of those sport kinds that takes one hell of a beating and doesn’t die.

“Looks like you have another hour.” He starts to wiggle around, but no one’s ever gotten out of one of my hog ties. He won’t be thefirst.

I slam the trunk, then take my coffee to the front seat of my car.

With the added fuel from the fresh cup of coffee, I can finish the drive to Mr. Carpenter’s little playground. The place where he enjoyed himself two years ago.

There’s a price of admission for every party, even if it comes years later.

I couldn’t stop the horror he’d brought to Jessica Hamilton, but I can bring her justice now.

An eye for an eye.

And when I’m done with him, every second of terror he made that young woman live through will have been revisited upon him.

As I pull away from the coffee shop, I notice Harley stepping outside, the sun hitting her face. She tilts her head back, letting the sun bathe her skin as she slides on a pair of sunglasses.

I’ll be done with Mr. Carpenter by morning.

And then, Harley Turner will get my full attention.

A tingle of excitement trails up my spine. I woke up today like it was any other ordinary day of work. But now, thanks to Harley, it looks like there’s going to be some fun in my life.

Until tomorrow, Harley.

Until tomorrow.

“Hey, Harley,” Johnny greets me as I empty Mom’s grocery cart onto the checkout conveyor belt.

“Hey, Johnny.” I have to bend into the cart to get the last bit, a dozen eggs, and a package of strawberries.

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